


For The Best.

by pemonynen



Category: The Hour
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 06:12:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/606682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pemonynen/pseuds/pemonynen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lix has made a difficult decision, but she knows that it's the right thing to do. A conversation between Lix Storm and Randall Brown based on what happened in 2.03.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For The Best.

It had been a week since she had last stepped into the temporary office. A week in more unbearable heat that burnt and suffocated, heavy and oppressive. A week with more fighting, now just a constant in the background.

Lix took another drag on her cigarette, keeping her gaze fixed on Randall's, the smoke curling between them, filling the already stifling room, the evening sun casting an orange glow across the cramped space.

"You were the one that wanted to see me." He stood watching her from the window, eyeing her warily. The memory of the last time they'd seen each other still fresh in his mind and raw in his heart.

"I'm pregnant." She stubbed out the cigarette and straightened up, her heart hammering in her chest as he gasped, ignoring the wave of nausea that rolled through her.

"Pregnant?" The deep Scottish brogue was barely a whisper but it rang out loud and clear through the still room.

"Yes. I'm not keeping it," she replied decisively. Determined.

"You're not-"

"No." Lix moved then, reached for another cigarette, hoping he couldn't see the tremble in her hands as she lit it and inhaled deeply. "It wouldn't be fair." This seemed to jolt something in him and crossed to her, fighting the urge to reach and touch her face, to run his hands through her thick dark curls.

"To who? You? Your career?"

"All of the above. It wouldn't be fair to the child either."

"I see, and do I get a say in any of this?"

"No, because I know what you'd say and what you'd do and what you'd want me to do."

"You can't know that-"

"I won't marry you. I can't." He flinched as she cut him off, his eyes suddenly filled with pain. She knew him well, too well. "Oh for God's sake Randall, we can barely afford to feed ourselves over here, and that's before I even remind you that we're in the middle of a warzone." Their eyes were locked together, their faces inches apart. He could feel the heat coming from her, could smell the intoxicating mix of perfume, coffee and cigarettes. How he ached for her, wanted her, even then, even after everything.

"So you're getting rid of it?" He spoke softly then, closing his eyes, shutting her out for the briefest of moments as he thought about how exactly she might get rid of it.

"No. Adoption."

"Sounds like you've already thought about it." Randall stepped back and took off his glasses, slowly rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Yes. I'm sorry, Randall, but it's for the best." She offered him a weak smile as she stubbed out the other cigarette. "Trust me," and with that she left and Randall finally allowed himself to feel, to let it all crumble around and over him.

"For the best. The best for who?" He muttered to himself as he reached under the desk for the bottle of Scotch.


End file.
